This Could Kill Me
by Theheroineinprogress
Summary: "Suddenly they were dancing, holding each other tight, moving in circles that symbolised their relationship, both afraid to let go, both willing the song to continue while silently their insides tore." ― Anna McPartlin, Apart From The Crowd


**[A/N: First ever AmeBel fic. My newest OTP, yo. I'll go down with this ship if I have to. First smut too, so go easy on me. Feels kinda weird that I'm uploading this. But I keep on reminding myself that art is art. And people will judge, and judge. Oh well. I'm not even sorry. My love for this pair is too much.]**

**Anime/Manga: Hetalia Axis Powers  
Characters: Natalya Arlovskaya/Belarus ; Alfred F. Jones/America  
Pairing: AmeBel (obviously)  
Rating: M for sexual content and profanity.**

* * *

_"Suddenly they were dancing, holding each other tight, moving in circles that symbolised their relationship, both afraid to let go, both willing the song to continue while silently their insides tore." _  
_― Anna McPartlin, Apart From The Crowd_

Under the dim lights of the bar counter sat a vixen of raw beauty with her long, platinum blonde hair, stunning violet hued eyes, and pale skin. Her slender fingers wrapped in a glass of alcohol being replenished almost every minute. She wished to forget, to find resolve to her problems, and it seemed like the bar is her only escapade option as of the moment.  
Homesickness poisoned every drop of her being. Longing for her home, her sister, and most of all - her brother. Twilight eyes threatened to shed tears, but she forced them all back before anyone else would see.  
No. Appearing weak and lonely was never her plan in the first place. She needed to be strong. For her family. For herself.

It has been months since the Soviet Union collapsed. Months since she's been on the verge of death, severely needed a helping hand. She longed for the warm arms of her big brother enveloping her into a tight hug, telling her that everything will be alright. But instead, a determined, obnoxious nitwit rescued her himself - something she hardly is grateful for.  
"One more." She handed her cocktail glass to the bartender, in which he nodded courteously and poured his lovely costumer another serving. One after another.

Until intoxication began its infiltration over her own body - not that she minds. This was the get away she has longed for.

Her lips touched the glass once full again, but something stopped her from consuming the drink itself.  
A gentle hand caught her wrist.

Alfred's blue eyes bore before her. His face twisted in anguish and concerns over her well-being. But all Natalya saw were a couple of possessive orbs that stole her away from his brother. Though she could not tell him to fuck off from her business - still owing the man her life no matter how you writhe the cruel reality.  
"What do you want?" Her words were covered with toxic that are full of hate and resentment.  
The American frowned. The boy knew, and expected that being the hero also meant a few sacrifices every now and then. Nevertheless, he never expected anyone who will execrate him for doing so. Even if he cared for her, as a friend and as a brother in ways she never wished.  
"Natalya, please that's eno-"  
"Do not call me that!" Only her brother is allowed to address her by her given name. She yanked her wrist from him, but his firm grip refused to let go - causing her cocktail to slop on her dress. The only dress from Ivan. Her favorite clothing.  
"You son of a-!" Quickly withdrawing one of her daggers from the holster around her leg, the platinum blonde directed a hit on the American's grip.  
But Alfred was agile, too. He managed to let go of her and avoid the blade before it cuts through his skin.

Everything happened in a flash.

The smell of blood, a mixture of rust and salt, contaminated the air.  
His blue eyes were wide open, staring at her in shock.  
While Soviet's eyes remained stoic. Cold, and distant. She let go of her knife and looked down. A sizable cut, almost an inch deep that ran through her arm. Her hazy vision must have made a fool out of her.  
"Dude!" America exclaimed.  
The young woman simply stared at her fresh wound. Pain was her friend. It keeps her awake and angry, but the best part of it is it keeps her alive.  
Belarus cut herself. Nothing new. Certainly, she didn't care.  
Yet there's someone else who did.

Alfred Jones.

Natalya was not hallow, tho. Along with the American's concerns are his self-centered plans. While it is true that he wanted to be her aid, self-interests are also at stake with his every move. What country would do something without personal benefits, anyways? They were all egocentric, it was not a secret.  
America knew well that every phenomenon could use all the support it can get. Taking the young lady under his own wings would mean a major blow on Russia's ego, as well as resources. It shouldn't take a genius to find that out so easily.

"Let's get you to the hospital!" He called out, even attempting to carry her all by himself just to get into his car.  
The dame stood up, slapping his hands off her.  
"Nyet. Dont touch me!"  
"Nataly-"  
"I'm going home!" She slurred with her thick Belorussian accent as she walked out - at least, tried to. The poor girl couldn't even walk straight, cradling her wounded arm.  
The man simply could not just stand there and watch with her difficulties, even if she did inflict them all to herself.  
He followed behind, supporting her by the waist as he guided her out the bar.

Natalya would have thrashed with his touch, and have yelled or called him names to get her hands off her, but the pain began to kick in and all she can do is wince from the ache. The latter opened his car door and lead her in like a true gentleman.  
"Dont bring me to the hospital." She said once they're both seated in the car. Stubborn as ever. "I'm going home."  
Alfred thought about it for a moment. He could, but...  
"I will have to tend that wound of yours if we were to skip the hospital."  
"I can take care of mys-"  
"I am gonna make sure you wont hurt yourself anymore!" He cut her, unaware of his voice raised... "O-ofcourse, it's my job as a hero after all."  
"Some hero." She scoffed, eyes hard and cold - wanting to say that he knew nothing. That she has hurt herself thousands of times and this recent wound is nothing new to her collection of scars, both physically and emotionally.

* * *

The ride home was taken in silence, since most of Alfred's attempt to talk weren't completely welcomed by the insensate woman. Yet she at least agreed to let him mend the wound, in which he didn't mind if she was giving him the regular cold shoulders until they reached the kitchen.

Every time the antiseptics and disinfectant touched her tender injury, Belarus cant help not to cringe.  
"Cant you be a little careful at least, you klutz?!"  
"You're telling me?" America wrapped her wound with a clean roll of bandage, an award winning grin on his face. "It's almost done... And... There." He finished, tying the loose end into a neat knot. "It could've been worse."  
Blue eyes met cold ones, trying to melt her walls of defenses. But she was too sturdy.  
"How are you feeling?"  
There were no answer - she hated that question. What can this american pig do, anyways? He always sticks his nose into someone else's business and tries to be the hero. But being raised in the cold means you have to be impregnable all for your own sake. Natalya never needed a hero. In fact, she never needed him. Depending on anyone, no matter how small it may be, is out of the question.

"Are you still upset about being taken away?"  
Again, no answer. Alfred couldn't tell what was running in her mind, her features too composed and distant.

"I'm sorry."  
Finally, confusion displayed her facade, glaring at him. What is he even apologizing for?  
It was all part of the deal when the Union fell apart - America will support Belarus, as long as she domicile in his own country.  
She has been the one resenting him, after all. So why would he feel sorry for his good intentions?  
The pang of remorse hit her unusually harder than she had expected.  
"Trust me when I say I would like you to be happy, but there are agreements we must not turn out back on."  
A hand brushed the strands of platinum blonde hair from her face, and tucked them gently behind her ear.

_'Trust him.' _  
Trust him... how? She never had faith on anyone but Russia ever since, yet this man before her has his own ways.  
Her lips turned into a frown. What is he planning, messing with her head?  
Rage and fury poisoned her feelings. The way he made her feel. The way he touched her. The way he's slowly creeping into her cold heart with his exhibits. Must he be so selfish that he's deviously planning to steal even her heart from Ivan?  
Natalya despised it. So much, that she decided to play along - aiming to win at his own game. After all, there's no way he can penetrate into her heart, if she breaks his first.

Lies and deceit coursed through her veins. This, she can easily get done and over with.  
"It's not your fault." Her soft voice chimed in, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.  
Alfred remained startled by the action, baffled with the sudden actions.  
She moved her hand from his cheek to her nape. Pale fingers of playing with the strands of his locks skillfully while her other traced his silk tie - loosening its knot.  
"You were only trying to save me." She purred while leaning in, standing on her toes so that his face is inches from his.  
"A-ah. It's only a part of a hero's d-day."  
"I havent thanked you properly for it, have I?"  
"T-there's no need for it!" He chuckled nervously, swallowing hard.  
"But that wont do any justice, does it?" Her lips formed a pout, pulling him in.  
"N-no... Really. It's no big deal, dude. It's my job and all. You dont have to -"  
Tiny, fragile frame pressed itself on his. He tried to step back, but the counter top forbid him to do so - much to the girl's liking.  
His yellow tie was tugged, forcing him to lean closer and meet her twilight eyes. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, the sudden change of atmosphere suffocating him. A slender hand massaged his neck sensually, sending chills down his spine.  
A smirk played along her velvet lips. She was owning him, alright. All men shares the same weakness.  
A leg was slipped in between his, her body grinding him intimately. Muffled, sharp breaths taken by the nervous American. He indeed have felt his pants get tighter down there as she leaned closer, body heats increasing gradually. This did not escape Belarus' knowledge, ofcourse.  
"You were saying?" She breathed on his lips, her arousing Russian accent inviting him in.  
"I-Is this how you gamble?" He asked in a cold tone that surprised the platinum blonde. Alfred knew well that she hated him, and couldn't think of any idea as to why she's behaving this way. It vexed him, on trying to understand what she's planning with that cunning mind of hers.  
Though to her, this was nothing more than a challenge.  
"What do you mean?" Violet hued eyes were desirous, yet remained hard at the same time as they gazed at the dead blue orbs of his. She wasnt expecting any response as she tilt her head to the side and claimed his lips as hers.

A groan escaped Alfred, eyes widened with her sudden attempt. Every inch of his defenses melting away, as soft lips grazed his. He closed his eyes and returned the favor in a manner just as greedy and ravening. A clear sign of white flag... No. This is not defeat, he thought. The blonde man is determined to revel himself with her game, whatever she's playing, until she quit it herself.  
Couple of hands gripped Belarus' wrists - lips never leaving hers, and pulled her even closer. His feet shuffled across the mat as he directed her on the kitchen counter this time. Tables were turned. This time, _she _was _his_ prey.  
Her eyes fluttered open in astonishment and perturbation. This, Natalya did not expect. Her mouse began to bite back. A grunt escaped her throat as she stared blankly in surprise.  
America heard her, loud and clear. So he decided to pull back, letting the both of them catch their breaths.  
His gloved finger lifted her chin, so he can see those piercing purple eyes.  
"Isn't this what you wanted?" He taunts, a smug look on his face.  
Her cheeks flushed red, trying her hardest not to kill him with her own two hands. Instead, she forced herself to be busy playing along with the male blonde. Pale fingers trailed down his chest, while the other removed his tie.  
"Why? Are you willing to give it to me?" She purred in the most seductive tone she could muster. Quitting her mission now is not an option. Never.  
Alfred planted damp kisses on her neck that hit her right on the spot. Throwing her head back, she closed her eyes.  
"I cant see why not." He said in between his playful kisses, a hand sliding on her waist. "It's a heroes job to save a damsel in distress, isnt it?"  
His ego cheered the moment he received nothing more than a moan from the lady, driving him mad.  
Soon enough, his kisses required teeth and tongue over her pale flesh.  
The male of the two blondes searched for her tender lips.  
Natalya welcomed him back as his lips found hers, responding to every scrapping of skin.

It was a constant self-indulgent war between two mouths. A slick sneer appeared on America's lips as she nipped on his bottom chops. Heavy breathing was heard throughout the usually peaceful kitchen, an occasional soft moans heard from the two of them.  
The entire medicine kit is shoved in an instant by his arm, sending them scattered across the floor. Bottles of disinfectants shattering that resounded throughout the house, but no one cared.  
He reached for both of her gracile thighs and pulled it against him, lifting the dame from the floor and eventually sprawling her on the kitchen counter. She can feel his genitalia hard against hers, the four layers of clothing still separating them as she twined her legs around his hips, and locked them behind.  
Livid hands slipped through his bomber jacket, removing and letting it slide down the cold floor.  
His tongue greedily explored the wonders of her mouth - the taste of alcohol provoking him. Both hands glided under her skirt, enticingly rubbing her legs back and forth, until he sensed the edge of her stockings.  
Alfred has seen her withdraw lethal weapons here once, so he's not at all surprised to find a garter around her thigh with a holster and knife attached. Safety was his priority, none the less. He snatched the knife from its sheathe, casts it across the room. Caring not if it even stabbed a couple of hearts before it landed on the ground.

America's arms returned themselves around her waist and carried her weight like she's no heavier than a feather. The former Soviet held his face and began caressing his jaw, then down his pulse with her damp lips.  
With her legs still locked around him, he found his feet and shuffled his way out of the kitchen until they reached the living room. The blonde man received some very playful gentle bites on his collar, making him groan in satisfaction.  
Finally sensing the couch, he let her down softly.  
Alfred lurched on top of her, locking his gaze with the beauty that stared back into his soul. His blue eyes began melting her ice-covered heart, much to her frustration. With all her will, she pursued on stacking up her walls of defenses. But what's the use? They're merely being broken into pieces as he casually infiltrated her world. None of her efforts to keep him out mattered. She was thirsty for him, and she wanted him. Down to the very last drop - if only she would stop lying to herself every now and then.  
Knots began forming in their stomachs that can only be aided with flesh.

"Якая вы прыгожая." He whispered, but enough for her to hear. A shade of scarlet flashed before her pale cheeks, his complement bewitching her. America was never the type who's considered as smooth with the ladies, unlike the pervert France he usually is, but he did have his own moments. The back of his hand stroke the sudden hue on her face which only made her turn red-er.  
Belarus looked away from those welcoming optics of his. The storm in her stomach didnt seem to calm down, which troubled her greatly. Something like this escaped her calculation process before raveling her plans. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, a lump stuck on her throat. Why on earth is she so nervous? She just wanted to get his scheme done and over with. Though now, she cant find the courage to do so.  
"Please look at me, sugar." He called out, voice amorous and eager. A sly smile on his lips, still keeping up with his covetous play to figure her out. Doing this was never what he intended. But if it's the only way to understand her, then he would gladly take part of the game with no hesitations.  
Natalya chewed on her lip, perturbed by her unusually delicate emotions.  
"Babe." Alfred cupped her chin and propped his forehead on hers. "I'd rather if _I_ bite that lip."  
The blonde man read the alarm on the woman's eyes that she's been trying so hard to conceal as he stared unto those orbs of hers. Being the dominant one was supposedly her part, but why is she being so fragile?  
Her delicate look was enough to make him stop. As much as he's tempted into it, Alfred was not the kind who takes advantage on lost girls. No, that was certainly not hero-like. He was not a rapist.  
He pulled off, giving her the space she needed and sat on the end of the couch.

The former Soviet stared at the open air, her insides screaming and crying. It's only a shallow task, why is she being so attached to it? A hundred of duties were handed down to her by her brother. How come this blunt one is crucifying her? It's such an easy mission: Seduce him, fuck him, possibly make him fall in love with her and shatter him like the cold woman she is. Where did she go wrong?  
"I'm sorry."  
Her eyes found him, his face guilty with remorse. He's apologizing again. But for what? Asking was not on the selection, for it would only kill her to know why.  
"Just forget whatever happened, dude." He let out a sigh and got up.  
"It's already late. You need to get some rest." Leaning down, the American planted a kiss on her forehead before stepping out of the room.

* * *

She tried to sleep, but Natalya only found herself staring on the ceiling of her room. Everything is scattered elsewhere, and she had no idea how to put it all back together. Her body felt numb. Inches of her muscles refused to move under the dim light of her lamp.

There was emptiness inside of her. A hallow, dull, corpse simply lied on the bed. What is even her reason for existing in this world?  
All she has ever done is annoy Russia, and oppress everyone around her causing them to hate her from behind.

_You're better off dead! You useless bitch. You cant even get a simple task done with that stupid American!  
__Who needs you, anyways? Everyone despises you. Even your brother. None of them even bothered to retrieve you, right? You were well disposed off. Much to their liking._

_Go to hell. You belong there._

Gritting her teeth, she could feel tears threatening to escape her eyes. Belarus knew well this was not the time to be weeping... But the girl has been acting strong for so long that her hidden feelings began to rot within.  
In a sea of heartache, she drowned. The gush of ice cold liquid burned within her chest, stealing the life out of her. Her limbs thrashed around, trying to stop her falling into the depths of the seemingly endless waters. Sharp, stinging pain flowed within her lungs as she gave up her fight.  
Livid fingers were locked around her neck, trying to stop the agony as she gasped for air. Gasped for hope.

The darkness began embracing her with its open arms. Did she really live all her life for this moment to come? It's just so unfair. But breaking free is easier said than done. Her grip on reality slowly slipped away, eyes becoming hazy and vague.  
But just when she's about to close her eyes and collapse, a cloudy figure jumped into the water, unfazed of however freezing it was. The silhouette swam desperately towards her. She could barely make out any of her amorphous vision but a couple of bright blue eyes secured her from the obscurity.  
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips against her, breathing life into her.

The blonde's eyes fluttered open back to reality. The dull ceiling taking her in.  
With brains shut dead, the girl's body moved on its own and jumped out of bed. Every step she took is getting more and more impatient as she headed towards the door.  
Resolve. Yes.  
Natalya found her resolve.  
Which was him. Him all along.

Her hand opened the door promptly.

But much to her astonishment, the American she wished to see was already standing before her room. Startle is written all over his face as she stared back.  
Finally having to recover, Alfred scratched the back of her head and stifled a nervous laugh.  
"I'm sorry, dude. It's just that... I... Uh."  
He what, exactly? The boy simply wanted to check on her if she's okay. And now that he finally confirmed that she's not suicidal or anything, he should probably head back, right?  
No. The male blonde didn't want to leave as he found his feet rooted before her misty twilight eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek, no matter how hard she attempted to suppress it.  
Her knees became weak against his concerned gaze. Why did he even bother? It seems so unfair to the lad.

The back of his hand brushed the droplet from her face, an involuntary movement that developed from the American's instincts. The moment he held her skin, however, a truckload of horror hit him - knowing that Natalya never wanted him to touch her.  
He expected the girl to slap him, or even thrust her knife into his bare flesh to come next. But all the threats in the world could never faze him as of the moment. Belarus obviously needed someone, and he would be willing to tear down her fortress and offer shelter. It was a mission only a hero could do.

Similar to a house of cards, the girl crumbled from his touch. Her weakness for him seeping through the cracks of her bones. An involuntary shiver crept under her skin with the contact.

"Natalya! Stop crying, dude! D-did I do something? Dont cry!"  
Unbeknownst to the lass, her heart breached its heights. The pretty face before him wept like a young girl loosing her toys. Her petite frame even making her look like one. A fragile doll that should be gripped with utmost care.  
With mind feeling paralyzed, she threw herself in his arms - much to the American's bewilderment. Though was automatically reverted to his calm and concerned state. It wasnt long till he held her still, striving to let her know that nothing can hurt her as long as he's there.

It's as if the sun shone upon the ice-covered earth. He was so warm and soothing - washing away the coldness and bitterness of her heart. And for once in her entire lifetime, she found console in the most unlikely person.  
"Hush. I'm here. I'm here." He sang with the most gentle voice as he cupped her chin to search for her beautiful, twilight orbs.  
"Nataly-"  
"Alfred..." A sweet, tender voice escaped her lips in between her sobs.  
The male's eyes widened. It was the first time he heard her speak his name. His _real_ name. Not addressing him as a country, nor anything rude or harsh. Alfred could feel his heart sink. An unfamiliar pang of affection hitting his guts, finally seeing Natalya more in a different light. Someone less cold and more human.  
"Y-Yes?" The corners of his mouth turned up as he stared at the dame.  
She could feel her stomach being constricted in knots as he beamed down at her. He was her sun. Her glint of hope.

The familiar face of hunger stared down at her. Mocking the emptiness residing within her. A hallow only he alone can fill.  
Lanky tiptoes were stretched as she reached to meet his lips. And without his own comprehension, he welcomed her halfway - mouths locking into the depths of affair and desire.  
For once in their entire existence, nothing else mattered. Not their ideals, compromises and arrangements. Not even other countries, nor the whole world. There's just this one, single moment. His lips locked with hers.

The desire that once infiltrated Alfred's interior resurfaced once again - longing to be fed, to be quenched. A hand ran through her long, silvery locks while the other wrapped around her delicate waist, pulling her closer against his chest. Lips pressing harder like a wild fire against hers.  
Natalya's pale palms traced his chest, slowly rubbing them up and down.  
A moth to a flame. That's what he was.  
Of course, it was not a secret that the American has slept with a couple of ladies every now and then. It's really nothing to be surprised about, considering the boy admittedly has the looks that girls would normally swoon for. But a different spark was found with her. Maybe it's because he truly cared for her? Or because she simply was a killer, literally and figuratively speaking.  
Either way, he can feel the abnormal heat arise as she suddenly broke free and sighed on his lips. The warmth of which traveled all the way down _there_.  
His fingers twined around her hair playfully, and tugged the strands gently so she's forced to look up. America gazed down at the once cold natured woman.  
"You are one reckless girl." The man whispers, blue eyes remained soft yet filled with yearning.  
Belarus managed to smirk, to say the least. Not denying a single word of it.  
He plunged back and kissed her, sucking her lower lip gently. "I'm in awe of you." The American murmured against her mouth. She, on the other hand, teased back - carefully tugging his with her teeth.  
With a moan escaping him, he ushered her towards the bed. Feet shuffling backwards until her legs hit the edge of it, causing her to stumble back as he inclined over her. Arms supporting him just above her head, two optics bore unto her. As blue as the Virginia sky itself. His golden hair dangling down, complementing the shine on his eyes.

"He will never care as much as you want him to." His lips caressed hers - unusually imperious, steady and slow.  
The male of the blonde nipped his way to her jaw and eventually, her neck. He wanted her. He wanted her bad.  
And it shouldn't take a genius to figure out that the lass could grab her knife immediately and stab the life out of him. Even if it seems like she's on her submissive side, no one would ever know when she'll snap. America knew well he needs to set his guards if he wanted to walk away in pieces.  
"You know that he will never care like I do."  
It's not as if he were lying. Belarus knew, in the heart of her heart, that what he's saying is true. But it hurts too darn good for her to admit. His words were sharper than her own knives. Digging deeper into her unlike anything that ever did before.  
Her hand slipped up his shoulders while a leg is locked in between his. With all the power she could muster, she pushed the American to his side - letting him crash his back on the broad bed. Quickly, Natalya crawled her way over him and secured his hips by sitting on them.  
Sharp violet eyes gave him a stern look.  
She wanted to hate him. To detest and abhor him with all the bitterness the world could offer.  
Yet, those sparkling blue eyes of his saying otherwise.

The platinum blonde couldn't find the will to do so.  
She bit her bottom lip in distress - which only aroused the man below him more. He wet his lips in response, palms sensually rubbing her arms. The pale, silky smooth skin rewarding him a satisfactory quiver. It wasnt long when she decided to incline her face inches from his. Her body sprawled all over him.  
Cool fingers trailed his neck. Lips parted seductively.  
"I dont believe you." She purred, pride and bravado devouring the most of her.

_No._

_I hate him._

_I hate him._

_I ha-_

Tilting his head to the side, he dived back into her mouth. His lips tender against hers.  
"Find it in your heart." He breathe out.

Heart.

It may be covered in ice, but it's still a heart. Still conscious and beating.

Alfred kissed her once again. This time, successfully melting the walls of her world. Every last flake of it. Until it finally dawned on her: she craved for him just as much. The girl cared no longer for her duties. Nor if he will be torn in pieces - much to her satisfaction.  
She only wanted him. There and then. With no more consequences, but pure necessity.  
A tongue was slipped in his mouth. Claiming and possessing him, as he fought against her. His pants tightened, growing an erection that caused her to grind her hips against him in victory. Her hands began unbuttoning his white shirt.

The American fought back the urge to groan. It quite entertained him to get his hands on a dominating woman every now and then. And certainly, he wouldn't mind it if it was the silver haired beauty spread all over him. He found it refreshing. But no way would he be the submissive one. That is _not _a hero's deed. Both will have to work their way to steal the top spot. And it was a challenge he gladly smiled upon.

A smirk appeared on Belarus' facade as she worked her way on his earlobe, nipping it gently. A country so big, and strong _wants _her. She swallowed the thought, feeding her authority. He may be _the _United States of America, but Alfred Jones is still a man none the less.  
Both hands were slipped under her creamy night gown, massaging her thighs up and down as she removed his shirt - letting the cloth pool on the hard floor. Provocative pale fingers played with the slight dusting of hair on his chest, while the other ran through his golden locks.  
He grabbed the bottom tip of her silk dress and pulled it up as it was gradually removed.

Alfred drank in the raw beauty of the image before him. Rich, purple irises complementing the livid, soft skin of the dame. She's just like snow. Cold and cynical yet beautiful and bewitching at the same time. Her black laced underwear even making the portrait more stunning.  
A typical man would do anything to keep such elegance only to themselves, and here he is massaging the navel of the woman on top of him. A cringe was received as a reward. Every inches of skin sensitive to the aphrodisiac touch.  
"Natalya." His voice was hoarse whilst fingers played with the laces of her bra before skilfully unpinning it with one hand, while the other massaging her breast. "Stay with me." He nuzzled his platinum hair - the smell of alcohol enticing him even more.  
The male's request was only replied with a grunt.

The stronger nation shifted from below, carrying the dame and tousled to their side until he maneuvered above her.  
Blue optics searched for twilight hued ones as a flurry of passion melted the world they lived in. It was all too early to call it love, but definitely this is something more than mere lust. It was resolution. Enchantment. Flames.

He leaned down and found her mouth once again, arms wrapped as he hauls her against his body. Electricity coursing through their veins with every touch. A quick hand is slipped through his pants, as it was removed by the younger nation. His lips trailed down her neck, and soon enough on her chest - enveloping her skin with rough, damp kisses. A moan escaped her lips, fingers locked around his dirty blonde hair. With a shift of hips, her underwear was peeled off by the man.

A pale hand remained on her hair, tugging it gently as she tried to steady her breathing. America gazed at her as his hands did their job with her body, softening and melting her as they glide slowly on the back of her thighs. After finding her opening, he thumbed through her clitoris intimately. It was so wet and pleasing that for a brief moment, Alfred closed his eyes whilst his breath hitches.  
Natalya arched her back to the contact, hips following his lead as he inserted two of his fingers in and out in succession.  
"You are such a beauty, Natalya. Just because he rejects you doesn't mean you're any less stunning." He whispered on her ear.  
She groaned, until his hand is off her and the other cupped her chin, forcing her to look at those pool of blue, mesmerizing eyes. While she was left wanting more.  
"I can make you feel wanted, Natalya." His voice was dripping with honey. Sweet and alluring, but poisoned with selfish desired from the unseen. "I can give you the attention you've been craving. The attention you deserve."  
"A-America... I-" She managed to mutter in a hoarse voice.  
"Shush." He sealed her lips with a kiss. "Just say yes."  
The rosy lips of hers automatically returned his kiss, both mouths becoming more delicate. Less lustful desires, and more passion.  
"Y-yes." She whispered on his chaps.  
"Yes." The Belorussian repeated. Her word with more assurance this time. The dame needed not to ponder as she gave him a light nod.

A sly smile appeared on the male's mouth. He shifted his position and soon enough, he's inside her. Quickly filling her, she moaned loudly.  
He moves, pounding into her. Pace moderately increasing, their senses desolated and detached. His breathing becoming more erratic.  
Until there was nothing but the feeling of sore, pleasing and delectable desire drowning the pair. Up to the point when their body bursts in an intense, rupturing orgasm.  
Alfred finally found his release, pouring himself unto her. He collapses on top of her, face hidden by the silky platinum hair.

America lied on his side and spooned her with his firm arms, nuzzling his nose through her hair and inhaled deeply. He kissed her forehead as twilight eyes found blue ones and held their gaze.  
The silence was peaceful. Ecstatic, even. It was as if breathing for the first time.  
"Natalya. You'll stay with me, right?" The man asked, brushing the hair off her delicate face.  
A beam appeared on her face. This was the place where she belonged. Nowhere else but with him.  
She nodded. "Yes."  
He held her closer - her head resting on his chest, not wanting to let go.  
"Promise?" A yawn escaped his lips. Fatigue finally catching up to him.  
"I promise, Alfred."  
Closing their eyes, the two immediately passed out in an exhausted sleep.

* * *

The dawn is about to break, but the sky is still dark. It was a night filled with tranquility for the couple who held each other hand in hand while sleeping.  
Something was wrong, tho. For the girl is aroused from her sleep due to another bad dream. The nightmare of seeing Alfred in a pool of his own blood now terrified her the most. Her eyes searched for him in the shadows, and the storm within her was automatically calmed down the moment she found him in her arms sleeping like a baby.

Affection washed all her troubles as she watched him sleep. Could it be that she finally cared for him? For someone other than her brother?  
It was a bitter thought that she wanted to disappear, but her heart says no.

She recovered every bit of memory as she could about last night. The bar, the knife, the medicine, and finally their intimacy. It was all too good to be true... And maybe it wasn't? Half of her wits told her that this could be another trick to separate her from Russia permanently, but the other believed on the American. The question is, what would she do?

Natalya sluggishly removed Alfred's protective arm around her and laid it gently on the bed as she swung her legs out of it. Grabbing her usual navy blue dress, she slipped it on and tied her usual ribbon with the most muted movements she could manage - cautious not to wake up her partner. Finally putting on her stockings and tying her shoes neatly, she straightened and motioned towards the sleeping man.  
His soft, golden locks gently placed on his face as he slept soundly. A low huff of air can be heard every now and then.  
The moment she stood there, tho, she could feel her heart sink.  
It was her being selfish again. Her being what she does best.  
But it doesn't mean she _wanted _to, atleast this time. Yet the Belorussian was well convinced that no one else should claim her feelings but her brother.

She hated herself.

She hated how reckless she can be. How manipulative and weak she is when it comes to this specific American. How she has a soft spot only for him. How she was about to break her promise and his heart.

Nevertheless, even if she did fight for him - Natalya knew well her attempts would go in vain.  
Ivan loathed him. And the thought of his brother fighting him slowly wounded her. A scoff appeared on her face. How can she even think of being with him in the first place? It seems so naive to her right now. She should have known better...

The dame returned her eyes on the still resting Alfred. Much to her unknowing state, her eyes began to water as she bit her bottom lip. Why is the world so unfair?  
She frowned to herself and leaned down, planting a kiss on his lip.  
"I'm sorry... Alfred."

The platinum blonde took a step back. She swore her heart did break right there and then, but as if she would admit it herself. A lump in her throat began to form, causing her difficulty to breath. The room is getting more and more suffocating every second she stayed there.  
Her feet shuffled to the door, and closing it softly before leaving her temporary home. Half of her heart was left under his keep safe. While the other she held close with her.

* * *

**[A/N: I know this is a one shot but I'm planning to make an epilogue for the sake of saving the feels. I also intended to avoid much detailed sex scene because I'd rather focus on the emotional stuff rather than the sexual desire. I write love making, not porn after all.**

******Song Inspirations: This Could Kill Me - Amy Stroup, Poison & Wine - The Civil Wars, UnGodly Hour - The Fray, Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragon  
~ Please do listen to these good set of songs that pushed me through writing this stuff. My perfect playlist for AmeBel.**

******Heads up for the Epilogue, okay? Thank you for reading, and please review. They really are constructive. ]**


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